Текст песни Евгений Слабиков - Ностальгия

From the outskirts to the center

Joseph Brodsky, 1962

So I visited again
This locality of love, peninsula of factories,
The paradise of workshops and the arcade of factories,
Paradise River Steamboats
I whispered again:
Here I am again in infant lara.
So I again ran through Malaya Okhta through a thousand arches.

The river before me
Flattened under coal smoke
Behind the tram
Thundered on the bridge unscathed,
And brick fences
The gloom suddenly brightened.
Good afternoon, here we met, poor youth.

Suburban jazz welcomes us
Hear the pipes of the suburbs
Golden dixieland
In black caps, lovely, lovely,
Not soul and not flesh -
Someone’s shadow over the native gramophone,
As if your dress was suddenly thrown up by the saxophone.

In a bright red cough
And in a cloak in the doorways, in the front
You stand in sight
On the bridge near the years of irrevocable,
Clutching an unfinished glass of lemonade to your face,
And the expensive mill pipe roars behind.

Good afternoon. Well, we have a meeting.
Why are you disembodied:
Near new sunset
Drives firing canvases into the distance.
Why are you poor. So many years
And rushed in vain.
Good afternoon, my youth. Oh my god, how beautiful you are.

On the frozen hills
The greyhounds silently rush
Among the red swamps
There are train beeps
On an empty highway
Lost in the woods smoke,
Taxis fly out, and aspens look in the sky.

This is our winter.
A modern lantern looks with a dead eye
They burn before me
Dazzling thousands of windows.
I raise my cry
So that he does not encounter houses:
This is our winter all cannot come back.

Is it not to death, no
We will not find her, we will not find her.
From birth to light
Everyday we’ll go somewhere
Like someone away
He plays great in new buildings.
We scatter everything. Only death collects us alone.

So there is no separation.
There is a huge meeting.
So someone suddenly
In the dark hugs over the shoulders
And full of darkness
And full of darkness and peace
Together we stand over a cold, brilliant river.

How easy it is for us to breathe
Because it’s like a plant
In someone else's life
We become light and shadow
Or more than that -
Because we all lose
Running away forever, we become death and paradise.

Here I go again
In the same bright paradise - from the stop to the left,
He runs before me
Closing with palms, the new Eve,
Bright Red Adam
In the distance appears in the arches
The Nevsky wind rings mournfully in hanging harps.

How fast is life
In the black and white paradise of new buildings.
The serpent is entwined
And the sky is silent heroic
Ice mountain
Shines still at the fountain
Morning snow winds and cars fly relentlessly.

Is it not me
Illuminated by three lanterns,
So many years in the dark
Running through the fragments wastelands,
And the radiance of heaven
Did the crane swirl?
Is it not me? Something here has changed forever.

Someone new reigns
Nameless, beautiful, omnipotent,
Above the motherland burns,
The light is dark blue
And in the eyes of the greyhounds
The lights rustle - by flower,
Someone is always walking near new homes alone.

So there is no separation.
So in vain we asked for forgiveness
At their dead.
So no return for winter.
One thing remains:
Passing the earth uneasily.
Impossible to fall behind. Overtaking - only this is possible.

Where we rush
This hell or heavenly place
Or simply darkness
Darkness, it's all unknown
Dear country
The constant subject of chanting
Isn't she love? No, she has no name.

This is eternal life:
A striking bridge, a tacit word
Barge sailing
The revival of love, the killing of the past
Steamboat lights
And the radiance of shop windows, the ringing of distant trams,
A splash of cold water near your ever-wide trousers.

Congratulations myself
With this early find, with you
Congratulations myself
With a surprisingly bitter fate
With this eternal river
With this sky in beautiful aspens
With description